TitanFall: The Frontier
by TheDigitalDan
Summary: Lance Corporal Caleb Orion of the IMC has one job: establish peace and order on the frontier along side his Fellow IMC forces. But as the war for the frontier burns like a wild fire, allegiances are susceptible to change...
1. Prologue

The frontier. Every one here was either running from the past or chasing the future. Atleast that's how ex-IMC officer James MacAllan put it. He made it sound like a window of opportunities; peace, justice and freedom..."with a little bit of excitement for those who love adventure." For lance corporal Caleb Orion of the IMC 17th armoured foot mobile division, it was much different. Simply put, he found the frontier to be a shit hole, nothing more than a good place to get killed outside of the core systems. Caleb had no desire to get killed in action out in the frontier. But these days, that was a luxury he nor the IMC could assure.

A group calling themselves "the militia" rose up against the IMC in staggering numbers. It wasn't an average rebellion that the IMC could easily dispel in a few days or so. No. This was different. They were organized. Strong. Fast...and they had Titan Pilots...the ability to pilot a Titan took the demand of physical and mental ability to the extreme, even more so in combat. That's what made it horrorfying for Caleb. "they can actually do it.." The militia had Titan pilots, good ones at that. Ex-IMC or whatever, they could pilot titans and that wasn't good. Not one bit. But Caleb had faith in the IMC. They've held strong against anything else, he'd be damned if the militia could stop them.

Caleb was just a foot soldier for the 17th armoured, not a pilot, so he looked up to those who had the strength to pilot a Titan. Ever since he enlisted, he hoped of being a pilot, but with the war and immense training required, it didn't seem possible. Titan pilots were on a whole other level In comparison to troopers. Their armor, their agility, jump kits and tactical abilities, which made an engagement with them near certain death to any grunt that thought they could fight them.

Regardless of what he thought about pilots or the war, he had a job to do on the frontier, shit hole or not. The IMC had a job of establishing peace on the frontier. And he'd help achieve that goal, no matter the cost.


	2. Deployment

The IMS Arrowhead came out of jump in the Yuma system not too long ago, per vice admiral Graves' order to deploy forces to each massive IMC refuelling stations within the Yuma System. Apparently, according to IMC intel, the Militia first fleet was running low on fuel and had the intention to assault one of the three outposts capable of refuelling a fleet the size of the Militia one in question. To Caleb's "luck" the 17th footmobile had been tasked as the defensive force responsible for warding off the Milita. As he struggled to sleep during the jump from Demeter...he simply hoped the Militia wouldn't select the outpost his battalion was deployed to. Whether they attacked or not, he'd need to get down there with his squad; follow protocol.

Finally, as if Caleb was anticipating it, the ship wide alarm signalled. His eyes slowly opened, his vision adjusting to the light. The IMS Arrowhead had three alarms; the deployment Alarm, which signalled troops to gear up and stand by for Titanfall, or head to drop ships. The enemy contact Alarm, which alerts crew to the appearance of enemy ships and or units. And finally; the abandon ship alarm, which spoke for itself. Each alarm was different and easy to distinct from one another. Knowing which alarm had just rung, Caleb slowly rose from his bed in the barracks to assemble his gear.

As his feet hit the metal floor with a loud thump, Caleb walked to the latrine to quickly shower before deployment. After a brief shower, Caleb stared at himself in the mirror, his sapphire blue eyes met with his reflections, lingering for only a moment before he dryed his dark brown hair with another towel.

Once finished, Caleb kneeled down and reached for his footlocker, opening it up to gain access to his gear. He pulled out the grey IMC foot soldier uniform, putting it on and further proceeding to gear up. He pulled his tactical vest over his head and strapped ammo pouches to it where he found convenient and easy to get to for a simple mag swap. Finally,he pulled his gloves on, rolled up his sleeves and reached for his weaponry; an R-101C standard issue Carbine and a Hammond P2011 handgun. Caleb's pistol found it's way to his holster, and his rifle to his hands as he exited the barracks en route to the hangar.

As the young IMC grunt made his way to the hangar, he carried his rifle in his right hand, and his helmet in his left, anxiously digging his nails into the padding of the helmet, hoping the Militia wouldn't arrive. He wasn't scared of losing the fuel or the outpost itself. He was scared of the Pilots. If there were pilots, there were titans. And when there are titans, there are immense casualties to the opposing side...most IMC troopers would tell him to relax and respond with "we have our own pilots" or "we have anti Titan squadrons". Despite everyone's best effort to settle him..it never did. "Sure we have our own pilots" he'd respond, "But what if theirs are better?" Or retort with, "how long does it take for foot soldiers to catch up and eliminate a heavily armed Titan? Too damn Long." while thinking, Corporal Orion could feel sweat trickling down his fore head. He exhaled and tried calming himself down "Relax Caleb..it's just like any other battle you've been in.." for his age, rank and deployment, Caleb was an efficient and powerful soldier, always fearless on the field. It was the calm before the storm that always shook him. Once he was under fire, he was calm and proficient. To avoid further stress, Caleb opted to just drop the thought and walk.

Having been walking for roughly twenty minutes, Caleb stepped into the massive hangar of the IMS Arrowhead. The arrow head was one of seventeen carrier ships of the IMC ninth fleet, so it was not surprising the size of the Arrowhead compensated for its massive hanger. Space for thirty five drop ships, fifty four fighters and seventeen Titan launch bays. when Caleb was first stationed on the IMS Arrowhead, he believed with its payload and ships alone, it should have been able to take on a Militia fleet single handed. Though, as proven...the Militia fleet was growing rapidly, in size and in fire power.

Caleb's train of thought was cut short by a pair IMC troopers calling him over. "Corporal, come on let's move! Graves wants us on the ground in twenty mikes! Hurry it up!" the first voice was Caleb's CO; Staff Sergeant Eric Keller. His voice was rough and very deep, easy to recognize. '...kind of like the alarms...' Caleb would often joke to himself. The second soldier was 1st Sergeant Philip Spear, The squads second in command, and more importantly, Caleb's close friend. Caleb knew Sergeant Spear before either of them enlisted in the IMC armed forces, and their friendship carried over into their Military Service. "Sorry Sir, thought I'd take my time enjoying the luxury bed i have in the barracks." Caleb's sarcasm earned a few chuckles from the squadron of grunts awaiting deployment, which in return, caused Caled to smile a tad and lighten up. "Yeah yeah shut up and fall in Orion" Keller scoffed and gestured Caleb towards the line of IMC grunts outside of the drop ship assigned to their squad; Echo six. Admittedly, Keller found Orion's humour to be refreshing and decent for morale in the squad, and earned a laugh from him more than once. But with a possible militia fleet on its way, now wasn't the time.

Amidst all of the commotion, chatter and work, the IMS Arrowhead's PA came on, silencing nearly everyone in the hangar. "Seventeenth Armoured Footmobile, you have the green light from Vice Admiral Graves to deploy to the surface. Infantry, your mission is to, in the event of an attack, maintain the operability of our Anti Air cannons at all costs. You will be joined by pilots during this operation to ensure full combat effectiveness. You have your orders, plain and simple ladies and gentlemen, load up and get down there troopers." During the announcement, Caleb caught a glimpse of the IMC pilots loading onto a drop ship adjacent to his squads. He watched intently, with so much interest he was barely paying any attention to his orders. A few of the pilots even noticed him watching. He'd never say it, but he idolized the pilot corps. Bravery, skill and strength all sounded very appealing to a feeble grunt.

After being herded into the drop ship, Caleb loaded a magazine into his rifle and cocked it to ensure he had a bullet in the chamber of his rifle. He proceeded to do the same with his pistol before being stopped by Sergeant Spear. "Whoa whoa...easy there Caleb..your acting like the militia is gonna come here of all places." Caleb glared to him, cocking his pistol before placing it back in its holster "Don't fucking jinx it man. We always get shit luck. Knowing mine, they're already on their way..."


	3. The Refuelling Raid Part 1

Working under the hot sun in full combat gear wasn't Caleb's first choice once the seventeenth foot mobile touched down on the surface. Instead of assembling, then operating the anti air guns, Caleb would much rather be posted to guard the Command Post that vice admiral Graves had set up was more his forte. Indoors, air conditioning, away from possible air strikes. In short, it wasn't great. But, as much as he hated it, it was necessary. In the event of a Militia raid, anti air cannons were the IMC's best defence to prevent landing troops to gain access to fuel pumps and other important IMC locations in the region.

Caleb gripped the intstruction pamphlet in his hands, reading through what parts and steps he'd need to finish calibrating the AA Gun at Bravo centre. The lens of the IMC issued helmets made it difficult to read clearly what was on the instructions sheet. He groaned, positive he'd pass out from heat exhuastion if he couldn't get the turrets online within another ten minute period. He paused and removed his helmet and began to run his hand through his sweaty brown hair. He sighed and grabbed a bottle of water that sat readily on his tool box, taking a long drink before muttering nearly incomprehensible words; "God damn it's hot..." He muttered through his heated fatigue. Opting not to wear the hot helmet any further, Caleb set it down to the side as he continued to work on the command console of the bravo turret.

Somewhat sure he managed to get the turret working, he stood up from his previous work position and reached for his comm link, attempting to contact the IMC head quarters "Hotel 4, this Echo 6 from bravo station, we believe we've managed to finally get the turret operational. Can you confirm?" There was a pause. Caleb took advantage of the pause to take another drink from his water bottle, not taking a second thought to save some water for later. Finally, the Comm buzzed with a response, "uhh, copy Echo 6, we're getting green lights across the board here, good work Echo, pack up your equipment and resume scheduled patrols of the area, command out." Caleb sighed of relief, bending over and picking up his helmet before responding one last time "Copy all command, Echo 6 proceeding to patrol."

Caleb swung his rifle around to his back using the sling, freeing his hand, allowing him to once again put on his helmet. Luckily,the water Caleb had to drink cooled him off, as well as no longer having to work on the turret. He climbed down the ladder from the turret platform and walked into a somewhat decimated building. Formally a home for the privileged, it was now an IMC temporary base. The room was filled with IMC soldiers, all tasked with their respective duties, and a terminal in the center of the room, operating the turret directly. "There he is! Hey Cal, how's the weather out there?" Philip, chipper and sarcastic as ever, sat back relaxed in the command console chair, fiddling with his weapon with his feet kicked up on the console. "Go see for yourself, it's lovely I promise. It's not blistering at all." Caleb, being obviously sarcastic, managed to chuckle a tad and grab a seat at the command console before speaking and sinking into his chair, "We can't relax for long. Command's expecting another patrol report soon. We've got maybe five minutes to take a breather, then another ten to walk around the entire outpost...which usually takes half an hour. Or five with a jump kit..." Caleb rolled his eyes behind his helmet at his own jump kit comment. "Well we don't have those Orion." Sergeant Keller interjected into the conversation, taking a seat for himself. Keller placed his helmet and C.A.R. Sub machine gun on the table before scratching his wrinkled face. "Well...yeah but, I was just saying...since there are Pilots also conducting this operation...Nevermind." Caleb sighed, defeated in a pointless conversation as Philip simply laughed behind his helmet. "Well, it may not apply to us Sir, but Cal isn't wrong. It should only take five minutes or less for a pilot to clear this outpost with a jump kit. Even less if he or she is in a Titan." Corporal Andrew Donaldson, the communications specialist decided to enter the conversation aswell.

Andrew was older than Caleb, but not by much. Though he was smaller in build, he was usually referred to as the brains of the squad as cliche as it was. Though Caleb was usually quiet, he found it strange that Andrew would interject himself into the conversation on his side. Not that he was complaining. While on the subject of the squad, Caleb notice nearly half the unit was not present besides himself, Philip, Andrew and Sergeant Keller. Puzzled, Caleb sat straight, looking around the room for Echo 6 markings, to no avail. "Where the hell is the rest of the unit?" Keller raised a brow at Caleb's udden concern "security detail. With vice admiral Graves and the pilots." Caleb drew a frown behind his helmet, rather jealous of his colleauges' opportunity. "Lucky bastards! Andy, raise em on the comm? I wanna know what's going on" Caleb stood up, stretching before leaning against the console awaiting to hear the comm feed. "Sure, don't think anything interesting's going on, but, if you wan-...well that's..odd.." Andrew stopped in surprise. "What? What is it?" Keller squinted to the Corporal, waiting for an answer. "..the comm...it's not getting a feed sir..." Keller rolled his eyes "Tellme why I should care, Donaldson" Keller was now being stern, losing his patience early, like he always did. "It means I can't contact the rest of echo, or anyone on the vice admirals shuttle, sir. Or anyone in the command post. I've already tried before you ask." Philip spun in his chair, keeping his voice low, "well that's not suspicious at all..."

After a few minutes of banter between the Corporal and Sergeant Keller, the Bravo Centre commander reported their squads loss if communication as well, and ordered echo 6 to the command post to inform command about the comm issues. The four grunts started walking from Bravo to Alpha, where the IMC head quarters had been installed for the operation. The men barely spoke, lost in their own thoughts in the blistering heat of their armor and weather combined. Not a single one would admit, but the comm loss from all units made every one of them nervous. It was too convenient for commas to go off...at this time, it had to be inflicted.

Caleb stopped for a moment, his head set picking up slight interference. "Cal, what is it?" Philip stopped, tilting his head to the side in confusion. "I'm...getting something from comms.." The other three looked at one another for a brief moment, wanting deny what they thought. "Militia. It's the Militia. It has to be!" Caleb had a very accurate hunch. It made perfect sense. The Militia would jam IMC commutation a to prevent IMC troopers from coordinating a counter offensive against an assault. "We need to get to head quarters right now! Go!" Caleb broke into a sprint for Alpha. Keller caught up quick with Caleb, forcing Caleb to slow his pace "are you certain Corporal?" Caleb turned his head to face the Sergeant "Absolutely. It makes sense. I reckon we don't have a lot of...time..." He stopped dead in his tracks, multiple drop ships coming out of jump right over head of the outpost. Militia frigates came low towards the base as their fighters launched and engaged airborne IMC units. "Oh fuck!" Keller yelled. "MILITIA!" Caleb yelled, hoping to alert any local IMC forces. Though over the loud hum of the Militia and IMC ships and fighters now engaging, it was difficult for anyone to hear.

"Pilots, today you have a chance to establish peace on the frontier, make it count!" The voice of Vice admiral Graves filled the air as an IMC drop ship touched down a few meters away from the four men. Six pilots poured out of the shuttle to rendezvous at rally point Alpha, where Captain Riggs, His Titan, and a bulk of the IMC forces were. Captain Riggs began yelling out his orders, "ALL PILOTS SECURE THE HARDPOINTS, THE REST OF YOU, ON ME! WE GOTTA SECURE THE HARDPOINTS AND ELIMATE ALL HOSTILES! MOVE OUT!" with that, Riggs climbed into his Titan, the massive war machine booted up and turned one hundred and eighty degrees towards the battlefield, squadrons of troops following him. Within minutes, gun fire and screaming filled the air of the refuelling outpost. "Come on! We'll ensure alpha is secure and then we'll assist Captain Riggs in securing Bravo!" Keller barked his orders to echo 6. Caleb gripped his carine and double checked it's magazines before shoving Philip to the side "told you not to fucking jinx it man!" Despite the situation, Spear grinned and followed Caleb, Keller and Donaldson to Alpha.

Caleb sprinted into the Alpha building, coming to a halt once he reached the command console. "Oh shit..." He muttered. The consoles had been reset to neutral status to prevent the turrets from firing. Most likely an act done by the Militia to prevent their frigates from taking damage while siphoning fuel. "You!" Caleb turned to the voice. A female pilot with a sniper load out was pointing directly at him "Get on that console and make sure that turret starts firing! Now!" Caleb scrambled, "Yes Ma'am!" He threw down his rifle and took a seat in the command chair, typing in multiple IMC clearance codes appropriate for resetting the turrets. "Shit! My codes aren't working!" The female pilot groaned in anger "You three!" She pointed to Echo 6, "Take up position at the door, my team, get over to bravo and make sure it's secure! Or even charlie if the Militia haven't claimed it by now!" The other five pilots darted out of the room without question, just as Sergeant Keller and his men did as they were instructed.

The pilot walked over to the command console to look over Caleb's shoulder. "Did you try every single code?" Caleb nodded. "Re-route?" He nodded again. "God damn it...hang on." The pilot raised her comm, once the other units within the building re-established communications in the complex. "Tac Six, this is Charlie Seven at the alpha terminal. A grunt is having trouble getting our turret back online...be a dear and help him please?" The pilot was quite obviously furious with the situation, and Caleb's next action certainly would not help. He stood and took the comm. "Sir, this is 'that grunt' Charlie Seven was talking about. I've tried all authorized and unauthorized IMC codes and they didn't work. I even tried a system and grid re-route...any suggestions Tac Six?" The pilot glared at Orion though her mask, nearly punching him before Tac Six responded "This is sergeant Blisk, as far as I'm concerned, you did what should've worked...patch my team into the network, I'll see what SpyGlass can do, get to it." Caleb complied and darted for the console, opening a network connection to Sergeant Blisk and his team. "Try it now sir!" Finally, the turret activated and began firing on the nearest militia ship. "Good work Trooper, now get to the other hardpoints!"

Caleb grabbed his R-101C and headed for the door, until being stopped by the pilot. "Slow down." Caleb was baffled at her comment and shook his head "Captain Riggs and his men need our help! We can't slow down!" Keller left Donaldson and Spear to watch the door as he walked over. "Rushing in there and getting mowed down won't help the captain. Being smart, capturing the hardpoints and winning this battle is what will...grunt. The objective is to activate the turrets. Not to a achieve a body count." The pilot spoke calmly, despite her un amusement with Caleb. "She's right Cal." Keller spoke up "What do you suggest...Captain...?" The pilot raised her hand, signalling Keller to stop. "My name is Sorin. Captain Sorin. The plan is to hold this position, and wait for my Titan, then, we will proceed on foot to bravo and ensure it's online and, provided we are not dead, we march on Charlie." Once Sorin finished, Spear rolled his eyes and muttered "well that's a shitty plan. Think ya left out the few hundred militia troops, pilots and titans out there. you know..the huge ass firefight..bang bang? Aaah we're dying. BOOOOM" the room fell silent after Spears little tangent. "Thank you for that excellent reminder, now shut up and listen. My Titan will take most of the flak. Allowing you four to secure bravo. That's the plan and it's final."

Caleb wasn't sure if Keller was comfortable temporarily giving up command of his squad, even to a pilot. They all knew Captain Soren was superior in every way, and yet, for grunts, it was strange being directly commanded. "Captain Soren, Sergeant Keller...Tac Six informed all units that Bravo and Charlie have fallen to militia control. The ship known as the red eye is taking on fuel and only Alpha Turret is firing...my guess is, we're going to have company very soon." Andrew quickly piped up, anxiously raising his rifle and pointing it towards the doorway of Alpha. "...Still three minutes to go..." Sorin muttered to herself. "Sergeant Keller, take skipper over here and take up an ambush position, the rest of you, hold." She un-strapped her G2A4 semi automatic rifle and cloaked, disappearing from Caleb's view. "Names not skipper..." Caleb muttered before stacking a few crates to craft a makeshift hiding place. Not perfect, but good enough t take Milita forces by surprise when they engaged IMC troops within the building.

"Hostiles approa-GAH!" An IMC trooper watching the door with Spear and Donaldson dropped with one bullet exiting the back of his skull. The trooper hit the ground with a loud crash, spilling blood across the floor. "CONTACT!" The room began echoing with gunfire, loud 'tinks' of empty bullet casings hitting the floor and screams. "THEY'RE MOVING UP!" The already dingy building was turned even worse by the impact of rounds smashing into walls. Caleb gripped his rifle tight, waiting for the right moment. As much as he wanted to start killing as much Milita as possible and help his comrades. He had his orders. He held his breath as the room fell silent, attempt to be as quiet as possible. Only faint groans of agony could be heard from wounded or near death IMC troopers. Though from what Caleb could see, Spear, Donaldson and roughly four other troopers retreated to the upper level for a last stand.

They walked in. Caleb could hear their footsteps. "Sir, lower level secured, I'll have some men begin hacking the console." Caleb slowly reached up, taking off his helmet to hear better, "good work, get up stairs, make sure there aren't any IMC soldiers left." The second voice was muffled and amplified by a helmet...it must've been a pilot...Caleb's heart sank. Where was Sorin? Caleb gripped his rifle even tighter, occasionally looking to Keller, gesturing for him to give an order. Keller simply shook his head and mouthed 'wait'. The Milita began hacking away at the command console, beginning to shut down the last turret. "KELLER, SKIPPER! NOW" In a flash, Sorin dropped from a wall hanging position, jamming her knife into one of the nearest grunts' neck. The soldier gurgled and coughed up blood as he and the IMC pilot dropped to the floor. Without hesitation, Caleb and Keller stood up and let loose a hail of rounds into the unsuspecting Militia forces. Caleb fired until his weapon ran dry and the mag was emptied. He wasn't aware of his weapons ammunition state and aimed his weapon at the Militia pilot "Say good night you son of a bitch..." Caleb pulled the trigger of his rifle, to which he was met with the horrorfying sound of ammunition exhuastion...The pilot turned to Caleb as Keller was reloading, raising his pistol, aiming it dead center to Caleb's forehead.


	4. The Refuelling Raid Part 2

_**Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out everyone. I got side tracked. I'll try to make sure it doesn't happen again. So I hope you enjoy.**_

This this was it. Caleb wasn't going to die a heroic death fighting off Milita forces, or live on to participate in further battles. No, he was going to be shot once. Right between the eyes. 'No pain I guess...' All Caleb could hear was his own thoughts. Frozen in the moment. He stared the pilot right in the visor, guessing where his eyes would be. Even if Keller could reload and kill the pilot...there was no way he could do it fast enough to prevent the steel round breaching Caleb's skull and result in splattering his brains across the wall. Caleb's hands balled into fists while trembling, sweat trickling down his forehead. "Come on then you fucking son of a bitch..." Caleb cursed at the pilot, preparing for him to make his move and add another grunt to the body count.

Caleb could do nothing but think as time seemed to slow down. What would the battle result in? IMC victory? Militia Victory? Would his friends share a similar fate as him? Caleb wasn't sure. His opinion didn't matter anyways...he was a grunt...dime a dozen...expendable. His eyes lost track of the Pilot's visor and instead found their way to his feet, waiting for the end. Why was it taking so long! Was he already dead? Or was time going really slow? Caleb raised a brow, growing impatient ironically. He looked up to still see the pilot there...though not wielding his pistol. The RE-45 Auto pistol was dropped onto the floor and the pilot gurgled as he stood there. The pilot gripped his neck before dropping to his knees.

To Caleb's surprise, Captain Sorin stood above the pilot, her knife driven into the pilots neck. The female pilot reached for her holster, pointing her side arm to the pilots head, "...better luck next time..." With one swift pull of the trigger, the room was filled with one loud crack of a firearm. The Militia pilot jerked forward and hit the floor with a loud thud. Caleb's jaw dropped before turning to see Keller's reaction. The man stood frozen, similar to Caleb, absolutely gobsmacked about the Captains save. "You okay skipper? You look kind of pale." Sorin stepped over the Milita pilots corpse and picked Caleb's helmet off the ground, handing it to him. "...Y-Yeah...uh, Yes ma'am...thanks for the save.." Caleb's shaking hands struggled to fit the helmet onto his head, still shaken from his encounter with the pilot. Sorin took the helmet from him and fit it on with ease, strapping it on and patting Caleb's shoulder. "Don't mention it. Now come on, let's see who's left upstairs. My Titan is awaiting drop, We can finally get our counter offensive in motion." Caleb took one last moment to breathe before walking ahead of Sorin and Keller.

Caleb came to a halt at the base of the stairs. He figured if he simply walked up, he'd most likely be mistaken for Militia forces, and in return, get mowed down. "...Guys...? Spear? Donaldson? It's Caleb. Area's clear!" Hesitant, one single IMC soldier peered around the base of the stairs, only seeing Caleb, Keller and Sorin. "It's clear, not an ambush!" The six remaining troopers, including Spear and Donaldson came down the stairs to see the mess resulting from the fire fight. "How many of us are left...?" Sorin sighed and removed her mask and lowered her hood, revealing her long black hair. "Just us. But my Titan's ready. Which means we can march on bravo." Her voice was more organic and soft without the voice modulator in her mask. One of the four other grunts was completely baffled at the plan, "What? You expect nine of us to take on a Milita army? Pilot or not, you're not invincible!" Sorin grew tired of the complaints. "Look, there are five other pilots out there. Two of which have titans on the field. Listen...you hear that gunfire? Captain Riggs' forces are still putting up a fight and we are constantly getting reinforcements. So yes. We can, and will, march on bravo. I will not say it again."

As Sorin was talking, Caleb briefly stepped away and retrieved his carbine off the ground, dumping the empty magazine out of the rifle, and loading in a new clip. Once finished, he peered over his shoulder towards the group debating their next course of action, quite baffled by Sorin's appearance under the helmet and hood. Despite the amazing stories Caleb would always hear about pilots, they were still human. Sorin's appearance made that clear. Pilots were always depicted as almost super human in stature and ability. Obviously they weren't. Though considering their advanced training in comparison to that of a grunts, they might as well have been. Caleb rejoined the group, simply standing in silence while waiting for a decision. Personally, Caleb was more than ready to march onwards against the Militia, but ever since his encounter with the pilot, he was less than eager to fight if it was only going to be himself and Sorin.

Though after some further persuasion, the group of soldiers finally came to the consensus and followed Sorin's command. Sorin raised her comm to Tac Six once again, attempting to hail spyglass, the IMC's tactical unit that resembled Spectre units "Spyglass, I'm ready for my Titan, send it down." Sorin exited the alpha building,staring off into the distance, examining the massive firefight towards bravo. "Command Authenticated, stand by for Titanfall." Sorin's Titan dropped to the ground with a loud crash. The impact cracked the ground,sending chunks of dirt and concrete flying into the air. The chassis that Sorin called in was an atlas; a middle ground between speed and defensive/offensive capabilities. Most likely the more common chassis, but also the most effective as most pilots would say.

Multiple drop ships and drop pods accompanied the Titan on its arrival, each pod and drop ship provided reinforcements for Echo Six's push on bravo. As the multitude of forces stood by for Sorin's order, Caleb and Sorin darted for the Atlas Titan. Caleb slid onto his knees, his white and grey uniform pants now turning green in the knees, stained with grass. Caleb crouched in front of the Titan with his weapon raised, scanning the area for hostiles. "Area clear for now ma'am. Go for it!" At the moment Caleb gave the all clear, Soren climbed into the cock pit of the atlas, pushing a combination of buttons to ensure auto pilot was disengaged. "Transferring control to pilot." The automated voice within the cock pit spoke, echoing around the small cabin for a short period of time. The atlas rose to its feet, wielding a forty millimetre canon. The cockpit hatches came to a close, and the Titan charged forward, gesturing the battalion to follow.

Caleb and the fifty man assault force sprinted across the field of the outpost, following the Titan towards bravo. Sorin's Titan broke off from the force to take flak from enemy forces, allowing the counter offensive force to take the long way around to bravo, to avoid most enemy fire. There were two simple ways towards bravo; a street to the right of Alpha which lead towards a choke point between a large building that stretched all the way back towards alpha, and the bravo building. And then there was the simple straight walk from alpha to bravo, which was currently being hailed with crossfire. Luckily for Caleb, the force was taking the street in hopes of regrouping with Captain Riggs' response force. Though as happy as he was taking the more easily defendable path, he was worried about Captain Sorin. She broke off to fight in the cross fire with her Titan to draw attention away from Bravo.

Caleb's thoughts would have to wait, The remnants of Riggs' force was spotted by the unit. They were using a destroyed Titan as cover in the middle of the street, pinned down by enemy forces. "All units! Push forward! Rendezvous with the friendlies by the down Titan!" the road towards bravo was on an incline, making it easy for Caleb to slide down towards the Titan with ease, firing his weapon in the general direction of hostile forces. He cramped into cover as the militia returned fire, reloading yet again and often taking pot shots at enemy troops. Every second, all Caleb could hear were the rounds piercing the down Titan. Soon enough, Keller and the rest of the response force caught up and began to fire on the Milita. "I need a situation report and need to know where the fuck Captain Riggs is!" Keller shouted, opening his question for anyone to answer. "He's dead! He was killed twenty minutes ago! Militia titans came down and overwhelmed our posistion! They blew up my Titan and killed my partner. Which means there's only five of us left! Two of which who are fighting in close quarters to reclaim bravo in close quarters with a small fire team. Last contact with that team was five minutes before your arrival! Last I heard, they were engaging Militia pilots! The other two pilots are in titans assisting captain Sorin create a diversion for us to retake bravo in the event the strike team fails! We're running low on ammo and have plenty of wounded!" The man talking was quite obviously a pilot. His armor, his description of five remaining units regardless of the dozens around him, and of course him mentioning his Titan. During that thought, it became apparent to Caleb, the downed Titan the IMC troops were using as cover must've been Captain Riggs' Titan...and if so, he was probably still in the cock pit.

Caleb made a mental note to retrieve the captains dog tags later if no one had done so already. Caleb peered briefly out of cover to fire, only to be suppressed by heavy gunners. He cursed under his breath, the rounds smashing against the hull of the Titan loudly. The IMC forces were pinned down in the middle of an exposed street, using a piece of demolished military hardware as cover...when Caleb ran the situation in his head, it sounded F.U.B.A.R. (Fucked up beyond all recognition). Every second, their cover became more and more limited by heavy fire and grenades. The occasional yell of "GRENADE!" would fill the air, followed by a large explosion, sending a couple men flying back either wounded or dead. "MAN DOWN!" Shrieks of orders and requests mixed with gunfire filled Caleb's ear drums crazy. "Sir! We need to get the hell off this street! Bravo isn't ours again..maybe the strike team failed! Or we Atleast need to assume that!" Keller considered Caleb's observation and knew he was right, though executing that order, was a lot easier said than done. There was Atleast fifteen meters between the downed Titan and the bravo complex. Even if anyone had the guts to make that run in open combat, not enough men would make it, and they couldn't simply leave the wounded out in the street, and to top it off, they couldn't carry them across the gap. It would ensure death no question.

Keller had to think. He didn't see a way he could avoid casualties...wounded or active, someone was going to die if he didn't think of something. "SERGEANT KELLER! ENEMY TITAN! THREE O'CLOCK!" A friendly strider Titan and Sorin's Titan were locked in combat with an Ogre; a powerful walking tank with the best armor of the three chassis'. From what Caleb could see, the ogre was winning. "I need an anti Titan squad up here with me now!" Caleb climbed to the too of the downed Titan, joined shortly by two soldiers wielding archer anti Titan rocket launchers. One of the men handed a spare launcher to Caleb, allowing for a more effective barrage to be fired. "Prepare to fire!" The three men went prone on top of the Titan, aiming their launchers at their target. "Gotta lock! Awaiting order!" One trooper yelled. "Got mine! On your order Corporal Orion!" Caleb squinted through the lens of his helmet, much like before, not being able to see all too well. He grunted and removed his helmet, taking aim with his launcher, gaining a lock. "FIRE!" A barrage of rockets launched across the battlefield, making their mark and smashing into the hull of the hostile Titan, causing to stumble lightly.

"Direct hit Sergeant! Someone get us some more anti Titan ammo up here!" The men behind the Titan cheered and got to work, searching ammo caches and pouches for any anti-Titan weaponry. The pilot Caleb and Keller spoke too recently lept up to the Titan with a ammo bag full of archer war heads, "blow that fucker to hell, corporal!" Caleb placed the launcher down briefly, turning to dig into the ammo bag, still barely hearing any call outs due to the gunfire. "Hurry up corporal! Prepare to fi-...oh god." The pilot grabbed Caleb by the shoulder and dragged him off the side of the Titan. Unaware of why, Caleb grunted as he swiftly crashed into the ground with the pilot. Caleb turned back towards the Titan, only to be sent flying back by a large explosion, obliterating the Titan instantly.

The whole unit seemed to be temporarily stunned by the eridication of their only source of cover in the middle of the street. "What the fuck was that?!" Yells of confusion were heard across the IMC force. Briefly after the explosion, a green tinted Orge (signifying a Militia owned Titan) began marching towards the exposed unit. "...oh...so that's what that was..." Caleb muttered with a distressed chuckle. "My luck fucking sucks...OPEN FIRE!" Without a second thought, the troopers began firing everything at their disposal in an attempt to cease the Ogre's assault. Rifles, handguns, anti Titan weapons, it didn't matter. All fire was focused on the Titan, though nothing stopped it's progressing charge. The Titan fired a few pot shots towards the unit, impacting the ground and sending men flying back due to the shock wave. Caleb tumbled for a few meters with the Titan pilot at his side. The men grunted as they were thrown around by explosions.

Caleb's uniform was now even more torn, holes in the knees, elbows ripped, a tear on the shin. It was a mess. What little equipment Caleb had left was a single grenade and his pistol...as for the pilot next to him, a simple R-101C rifle with no ammunition was their fallback...as the ogre grew closer to wiping them out, Caleb's already bad luck was running out...it'd take another miracle to kill the Titan.


End file.
